


12 years of friendship

by orphan_account



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Drugs, M/M, Suicide, drug overdose, major death, read the tags, suicide warning, trigger - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 15:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A sad alternate ending to Michael in the Bathroom.





	12 years of friendship

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I was inspired from THIS video to make a sad ending to Michael in the bathroom! Don’t read if anything bothers you, okay? 
> 
> https://youtu.be/doyKq5QcOvA

Michael leaned against the sink, laughing softly as he realized how low his life got. He just took a fucking bottle of pills; he’ll be dead in maybe 15 minutes. 

Dead. 

Jeremy won’t have to deal with his pathetic, loser, stoner self anymore. He can go be as cool as he fucking wants and then, when the squip takes over the world, he’ll realize his best friend was fucking right.

And Michael won’t be around to see it.

Good riddance to this messed up, fucked up world. 

Jeremy was right, he was a loser. No one would or should ever hang out with him.

Glaring at his red rimmed eyes and the tear trails down his cheeks in the mirror, he let out an angry sob as he punched it.

The glass cracking mirrored his heart, as all the shards fell to the ground. 

Fist throbbing, he grabbed the easiest shard to hold and stumbled over to the wall, leaning on it and slowly sinking to the floor. 

“Pathetic.” He whispered, placing the cool glass on one of the many healing scars decorating his arms. 

The glass was cold and the smell of blood actually hit his senses. Looking down, he continued to decorate his arms with more red lines, the blood trickling down his arms. 

His head growing heavy and his breathing becoming labored, he leaned his head against the wall and shakily lifted his phone. 

Opening messages, he went to the only conversation he had open.

“Dear best friend, I’m writing this to let you know I hope you feel better. I’m not going to ruin your life anymore. I was only trying to help, and here’s the secret: Mountain Dew red stops the S.Q.U.I.P. Not that you’ll listen, of course. Well, I can’t breathe and I’m just tired. Here’s a toast to 12 years of friendship; the friendship I thought would last our lives. Have fun living the rest of yours without me.” 

His bloody finger struggled to reach the send button, as the choking jaws of the medication tightened around him. Straining his eyes to see, he managed to hit the send button before dropping the phone.

Tears leaking down his face, he coughed, and tried to think of something happier. 

All the hours of playing games with Jeremy. The time where they went camping with Mrs. Heere and Jeremy almost drowned in the pond. The time they almost burnt the house down when michael’s moms went out on a date and left them alone.

Letting out a wet laugh, he pulled the player 1 necklace off his neck and threw it across the bathroom, hearing it hit the door with a crack.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled harshly. His body was growing numb, starting from the feet up and rising til he choked for air, wheezing for a few seconds.

“I hope this makes you happy, Jeremy.” He muttered through blue lips, as his eyes closed and he slumped to the side. Slowly breathing, he didn’t feel any difference when he didn’t breathe again.

——————————-

“Jeremy, come on. We need to work on your flirting skills.” The Squip ordered, irritation filtering through his voice.

“No! Give me a second, oh my gosh. I just probably really hurt my best friend!”

“He’s not your best friend, not anymore. And I’ve told you, this is for your own good. Now come on.” The squip beckoned, directing his eyesight to a group of girls in the corner.

Sighing, Jeremy walked a few feet towards them before a loud scream echoed around the house. 

“Someone’s bleeding in here! Oh my god!” A girl shrieked, backing out and running towards her friend.

“Hey! What’s wrong?!” Jake asked, walking towards her.

“S-someone’s in the bathroom! And they’re bleeding!” The girl sobbed, burying her head in her friend’s shoulder.

Bathroom.

Bleeding.

Oh no...

Michael.

“Out of my way!” Jeremy yelled, running past the people who were crowding in front of the bathroom.

Squeezing past, he was faced with the most horrific sight he’d ever seen.

“Michael...” he sobbed, running into the bathroom and towards his friend. 

“Michael! Wake up, please! I’m sorry!” He pulled michael’s limp form into his arms, and tried to wrap something around his wrists to stop the bleeding.

“Michael, please!” He begged, pressing his hand against Michael’s cheek. 

It was cold.

“No! No, Michael. Wake up!!” He wailed, placing both his hands on michael’s face and crying.

Hushed whispers were all around him, and Jeremy struggled to breathe. His best friend was dead. 

It was only when he looked to where michael’s finger had been pointing did he notice. Michael’s phone, with bloody fingerprints along the screen. 

Turning to everyone watching, he blinked away fresh tears.

“Don’t just stand there!! Call the ambulance and leave me alone with him!” He yelled, his voice breaking. Everyone quickly did so, and Jeremy picked up Michael’s phone with shaking hands.

Entering the password he knew by heart, he noticed the message that Michael had sent. He hasn’t received it; he’d blocked Michael’s number.

“Dear best friend...” he started, tears running down his face.

“I’m writing this to let you know I hope you feel better. I’m not going to ruin your life anymore. I was only trying to help, and here’s the secret: Mountain Dew red stops the S.Q.U.I.P.” He read, fat teardrops hitting the screen, mixing with the bloodstains and leaking down the rest of the screen.

“Not that you’ll listen, of course. Well, I can’t breathe and I’m just tired. Here’s a toast to 12 years of friendship; the friendship I thought would last our lives. Have fun living the rest of yours without me.” He finished reading, and a fresh wave of tears and self hate hit him.

“It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, Michael. I’m so fucking sorry!” He wailed, pulling on his own hair and staring down at the still body of His best friend. 

“You killed yourself...and it’s my fault.”


End file.
